


Out of the Fort and Into the Fire

by Lira_Chimera



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anxious Sam, Blankies are wonderful, Calm Castiel, Caretaker Jimmy, Childhood sexual abuse suspected but not proven, Dean has a melt down!, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Dean Winchester, Little Space, M/M, Multi, Panic Attacks SUCK!, Reaction to Little Space, Redux Adjacent to Sammy's Time At Stanford, Sorry about the lack of sex- maybe next time, Tea is useful, The title sucks but it's all I can come up with right now, sorry no sex in this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-25
Updated: 2017-02-25
Packaged: 2018-09-26 22:18:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9924386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lira_Chimera/pseuds/Lira_Chimera
Summary: This work is a direct response to SharpieStealr8200's Sammy's Time At Stanford AU: A fic based on a fic.Dean has a hard time accepting good things into his life and sometimes there are good reasons for that. Sam, Jimmy and Cas take care of him.A million thanks to ZoyciteM for letting me play in her 'verse and thanks to SharpieStealr8200 for the inspiration.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ZoyciteM](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZoyciteM/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Sammy's Time At Stanford AU Redux: A fic based on a fic based on a fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9395351) by [ZoyciteM](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZoyciteM/pseuds/ZoyciteM). 



Dean woke as he always did now, warm and in good company. This was still strange to him and this time, when he opened his eyes, it only became more strange. 

 

There was Sam in front of him, deeply asleep, face half buried in a pillow and obscured by a bit of blanket and a fall of golden brown hair. He couldn't see beyond Sam but he knew Cas was there and still asleep by his gentle snoring. Behind him Dean could feel Jimmy, also fast asleep and peaceful (for the moment), his little lithe body tucked up snug behind him, one arm thrown over his shoulder- and his morning wood pressed against Dean's ass.  

 

The little niggle of anxiety that seemed to accompany any good thing rose up in him and took Dean by the throat so suddenly and inexorably that there was no time to even guess at what was happening or think of what, if anything, he should do about it. 

 

He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think, he couldn't move- he was frozen and it was his worst nightmares come true, to be awake and frozen, unable to even begin the process of thinking about what was happening. He could only lie there helpless and sick with unreasoning terror as panic crashed through him. 

 

It was then that Sam opened his eyes and as their eyes met it was abruptly as though Dean was in two places at once, in the warm nest of the blanket fort and covers with Sam and the twins- and in another, much smaller and simpler blanket fort and instead of Sam it was

 

Mom. _Mom_.

 

She opened her eyes (a fraction of a moment after Sam) and she smiled, crinkles framing her green eyes, as she came fully awake. 

 

"Good morning, baby," she and Sam said in unison and each reached up with one hand to push back their hair before reaching out to stroke Dean's cheek. 

 

Sam’s hand was warm on his skin. Dean tried to feel his mother’s hand, too, but there was nothing, not even the chill of a ghost’s touch. 

 

Her voice was mixed with Sam's deeper one, her face overlaid his, the blankets and pillows, too, were doubled and somewhere far, far back in his mind was a tiny voice desperately saying that this was only memory and there was no need for this horrible fear, this paralyzing dread. 

 

Then Jimmy stirred behind him, murmured something incomprehensible and pressed his body, and that very obvious erection, harder into Dean. 

 

One moment Dean was still and in the next he was struggling, thrashing free of the blankets, wrenching himself out of Jimmy's arms and blundering to his feet. Blankets and sheets came with him but he ripped them away and went staggering back, turning as he went, his only desire to be away, to be anywhere but here. 

 

The room was dim, almost dark, and he tripped first against a chair and then crashed hard against a wall. The shock stunned him into stillness. He gasped for breath as though he'd been facing a rugaru or a nest of vampires rather than his brother, his lovers and his, his- 

 

Vaguely he was aware of voices, one closer than the others and saying his name but though he wasn't seeing, (dreaming?) remembering his mother's face as vividly as before her voice was still echoing down the years and mixing with Sam's. 

 

"Dean. _Dean_. You're safe, it's okay, I'm here. You're having a panic attack. Just breathe, okay? Breathe." 

 

Dean tried to obey his brother, tried to hear only his voice but Mom's was so sweet and she was so wrong about the safety, they weren't safe, _he_ was back, he'd come back and there wasn't any safety when he- 

 

"Dean."

 

Another voice, deeper than Sam's and rough but not _his_ despite the note of command in it. It cut through the sounds of someone making horrible and wrenching sobs of terror and grief and only then did he realize that it was he who was making that awful sound. He swallowed a sob and fell silent but the terror only grew. It was always worse if he cried. 

 

He turned and tried to run again but the wall stopped him. He pressed his face into the cold, hard surface and tried not to make a sound. If he was quiet sometimes sometimes

 

Something soft and warm fell over his shoulders and he shuddered and tried to duck out from under it but it followed him long enough for him to realize it was only a blanket. 

 

"Dean, hide," came the soft, double voiced command. 

 

He was incapable of obedience but he didn’t resist as the blanket was gently, slowly pulled up over his head and the softness, the sense of being hidden from danger stilled the terror into something slightly less, into something almost bearable. Then familiar arms slipped around him, even more gently and slowly than the movement of the blanket, and he began to shake. 

 

His knees buckled but he didn't fall. Strong arms supported him and he was lowered to the floor. The blanket was warm, a cloud of softness around him, the familiar arms firm but not trapping him, only holding him together. Exhaustion suddenly claimed him and he went limp. He clutched at the blanket and pressed his face into a broad chest and the next trembling inhalation brought a beginning of comfort. 

 

Tears slid down his face, cold and slow, but they seemed unimportant, only an artifact like the blanket. He felt and heard the steady, if quick, heart beat under the left side of his face, heard his name being said but he could only lie there, stunned and just so stupidly tired that answering seemed beyond impossible. 

 

He had no idea of time passing, only of a gradual lessening of his terror until he was released from its thrall and left to drift in the quiet warmth of the blanket. 

 

After a while he realized it was Sam he was resting against, Sam’s heart beat guiding him back to calm, his steady presence waiting for him to come back to himself. And one of his legs had fallen asleep and was numb so he moved a little to ease its position. 

 

"Dean?" Sam's voice was soft and warm like the blanket and he felt more tears slide down his face. "We're here, Dean. You're okay. _We're_ okay." 

 

Something broke in Dean's chest and he clutched at Sam through the blanket, pressing up against him with a sudden, desperate surge of strength that left him as quickly as it had come but Sam was strong enough for both of them. Gently, gently Sam closed his arms around him and steadied him. Dean felt him speaking but for some reason he couldn't make sense of the words. 

 

 _Not safe, not safe, never safe,_ Dean thought and the words rattled in his head so hard they were like marbles and he wondered briefly and with an almost hysterical lucidity if they would leave bruises on his mind or if they already had and maybe now the bruises would bleed. 

 

"Dean, we're as safe as we can be right now," Sam murmured. "You had a panic attack but we really are okay and-"

 

Dean's body shook with a fresh volley of shivers, so hard he wondered if he might just fall to bits right then and there. 

 

 _There's no safety, Sam,_ Dean thought. _Not anywhere._ He wanted to say the words out loud but his mouth didn't seem to be connected to his thoughts. It didn't seem to matter because Sam heard him anyway. 

 

"I'm here, Dean. I won't let anyone or anything hurt you. You saved me so many times. I'm saving you now. Just rest, okay? I'm here. Cas is here. Jimmy is here. You can rest for a minute, okay?"

 

_N-no, no resting. Can't rest, can't-_

 

Dean tried to struggle free of the blanket and Sam's arms but even though Sam was barely holding him he was too weak to do more than let him push feebly at Sam's chest. And even that bit of exertion left him shaken and gasping for breath again. He felt a moan trying to punch through his determined silence and was doubly frightened when it escaped him but it seemed to have reconnected his mouth and his brain and he was finally able to speak out loud.

 

“It’s bad, it’s bad!” 

 

“What’s bad, Dean?” 

 

Sam’s voice was a low murmur, a gentle rumble in his chest that made him have to lean in to hear it. It felt good to press up against his brother and he began to weep again as he tried to hold on to Sam but the blanket was in the way and his fingers were stupid and couldn’t hold anything, not even the folds of blanket. How could he protect them if he couldn’t hold even a wretched blanket? 

 

“I don’t- it’s just bad, everything’s bad and I’m, I’m, just, just- _scared_ and I can’t be scared and I’m too old to be scared and Mom needs me and the baby needs me and I’m, it’s just bad and I’m just so scared and I can’t be scared-“

 

Sam’s arms tightened around him and his voice rumbled in his chest again. 

 

“Of course Mom needs you. You’re her sweet boy, the one she loves. You’re good, Dean, you’re a good boy and she loves you even when you’re frightened.” 

 

“But I’m too little and I can’t help her, I can’t do anything to, to- and the baby, the baby’s coming and I’ll have to take care of it, too, and I’m scared of that ‘cause what if I’m not good enough, what if, what if I do it wrong and I hurt it? Mom, Mom loves me but D-d-d-“ 

 

“Mom’s good, right? Mom loves you, right? She’s smart and knows what’s what, right?”

 

The lump in Dean’s throat was so hard and painful he couldn’t speak. Even nodding was too hard but again Sammy seemed to sense his inability to speak and his agreement without needing any words. 

 

“Mom’s right and Dad’s wrong, Dean. You’re good. You’re going to do a great job of helping Mom with the new baby. You guys are going to love each other like crazy and it’s all going to be good, I promise. I know it’s all really horrible right now but it’s going to be okay.” 

 

Dean struggled to control himself but a fresh flood of silent tears soaked the blanket and he found himself trying to get closer to his brother. Sam pulled up a fold of the blanket and snugged him in tight, pjs to pjs, and then covered up his head so he was hidden again. Sam’s scent, the gentle vibration of his voice in his chest as he continued to speak words of love and comfort, the steady beating of his heart, the flow of his breath, his fierce warmth, all combined to finally soothe away the worst of the fear and grief. 

 

At last, his tears ended. Dean felt as though all his strength had seeped out by way of the tears and it took a kind of strength he hadn’t known he had to push back the blanket a little and say, 

 

“I, I need a Kleenex or a sheet or something. I’m a mess and I think this blanket’s gotta go in the wash.” His throat hurt and his voice was hoarse as though he’d been yelling for hours. 

 

Sam chuckled quietly and a moment later a handful of Kleenex was pressed up under the blanket. Dean took them and managed to wipe his face a bit and then blow his nose until he could breathe through it again. 

 

“Sorry,” he muttered, passing a clot of sodden paper out from under the blanket. 

 

“It’s okay, babe. Not a problem.” Sam took it from him and then put his arm back around him again. “Could you drink a little water?” 

 

“I guess.” 

 

A water bottle was held to his mouth and he sipped at it. 

 

“It’s cold,” Dean complained, then almost started crying again because who was he to whine about getting cold water handed to him when he was a melted down wreck of a useless hunter. “Sorry,” he muttered again and then almost squeaked when Sam tightened his grip on him.  

 

“That’s okay, too. Hey, we have some tea here, something Marta made up for you. It’s still warm. Want to try it?” 

 

“O-okay.” Dazedly he wondered how long he’d been like this. Long enough for Marta to make tea and for it to go off from hot. He felt a sudden wave of guilt crash over him but he was bound and determined not to cry any more and he just managed it. Then, a cup was handed in under the blanket and when he reached for it he found Sam’s hand- and that instead of a mug or tea cup it was a sippy cup. He giggled a little, almost crying _again_ because it was funny and sad and useful and practical and and and 

 

The tea was warm and sweet with honey but it wasn’t a kind he’d had before. A faint scent like hay came to him and the flavor was almost bland but weirdly soothing, too. It felt so good going down his throat that he drank half of it without stopping. Then, he was abruptly too tired to hold the cup and his hands lost their grip but since it was a sippy cup it didn’t matter. Sam caught it before it got too far away from them and then it vanished like the used Kleenexes. 

 

“Better?” Sam asked. “It’s okay if you’re not, you know. I can lie here all day. Or least for a while longer. I’m gonna have to pee eventually but Cas or Jimmy or both of them can cuddle you if-“

 

“I’m, I’m better. Just, just give me a few more minutes and I’ll let you go.” Dean swallowed hard at the idea of letting go of Sam and tears started up in his eyes again but he willed them to stay there and after a minute or two they receded. “I’m just so freaking tired.” 

 

“Yeah. Jimmy says that’s part of the panic attack and totally normal. You might need to rest up for a day or so before you’re at full strength but that’s normal, too.”

 

“Man. That sucked donkey balls,” Dean groused. 

 

Sam laughed and Dean heard Cas and Jimmy laughing, too, and he felt his mouth quirk up in a crooked sort of grin. He buried his head again, though, and Sam snuggled him ferociously for a moment. 

 

“You are such a big lout of a baby,” Sam said, speaking into the top of Dean’s head and pressing kisses into his hair between the words. “You scared us all just about to death. If it weren’t for Jimmy and Marta knowing what to do-“ 

 

“Aw, you’d have done the right thing anyway, Sammy. You’re good that way. Always being so good to me.”

 

“Well, I love you, babe. You’re worth being good to and don’t you forget it.” 

 

Dean couldn’t speak to that but he made up for it but pushing back the blanket and daring to look around the room. Cas and Jimmy were fully dressed and sitting on the floor, not very close, watching but not crowding in. Cas eyed him watchfully but kind and Jimmy had on his Student Doctor face but his mouth trembled when their eyes met. 

 

“You feeling a little better, cutie?” Jimmy asked, still not making a move towards him and looking very guilty about something. His face was tear stained and his eyes were even more brilliantly blue because of the rims being red from crying. 

 

“Uh, yeah. I guess. Fucking exhausted like I went three rounds with some kind of fucking demon but yeah, better.” 

 

Jimmy’s mask slipped then and the rambunctious, emotional, eager to please twin was in full view- and yes, that was major guilt on his face. 

 

“I, I-“ Jimmy started and then stopped. Cas put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a little shake. This seemed to give him the heart to go on. “I think it’s my fault you melted down. I, I didn’t mean to do it, I couldn’t help it and I’m really, really sorry!” 

 

Dean frowned. 

 

“What do you mean?” 

 

To his surprise, Jimmy flung himself into Cas’s arms and burst into tears. Over his head, Cas said quietly, 

 

“Jimmy had an erection and he thinks that it prompted this reaction in you.” Cas looked at him consideringly for a moment then asked very gently, “Dean, did your father ever molest you?” 

 

Dean felt Sam go utterly still, almost rigid, felt his breathing hitch and then speed up before he got himself back under control. 

 

“I don’t know. I don’t remember. I, I never thought so but… I suppose it’s possible.” 

 

“It’s possible he did or didn’t, Dean, but it’s also possible that he still was too close to you in an improper way and that, combined with your later experiences with him and Sam, that Jimmy’s erection did play a part in triggering this in you. Especially since we were in Little Space last night. You don’t have to talk about this now- I know you’re tired and even if you weren’t I would never press you on this- but it might be good to consider it and see if you can clear it up if for no other reason than to understand-“ 

 

“I know what happened,” Dean said. He pushed a little at Sam and after a moment Sam reluctantly eased up his grip on him. Dean sat up, staying close to Sam and keeping the blanket snug around him. Sam changed position, too, so that he was more encircling him than holding him, a wall for him to lean against if he needed it, or a shield. 

 

Jimmy managed to get his tears under control and sat up, too. He seemed about to speak but Cas shook his head and Jimmy closed his mouth tight. 

 

“Mom and I… this one time, Dad was gone. He went away. Or maybe Mom sent him away, I don’t know. Mom and I had made a blanket fort and played kinda like this. It was so… we had fun.” Dean pulled the blanket tighter around him and Sam leaned in closer, too. “Anyway, it was fun and we slept there and when Dad came back he, he… snuck into the fort and when I woke up he was there, too. It should have been nice to have him there but it really wasn’t. He was mad and pretending not to be and he he-“ 

 

Dean couldn’t go on but Sam finished for him. 

 

“He was hard and he pressed himself up against you.” Sam’s voice was steady but… 

 

“Yeah. I think that happened. I, I’m not sure, though. I, I… It’s just a sort of… Well, I don’t remember anything much after the blanket fort until you were almost born. But, aren’t gaps in memory common in kids?” 

 

Cas considered this but it was Jimmy who answered. 

 

“Yes, that’s common enough but it doesn’t really matter. You do have a blank spot and it combines with a stressful time and apparently ends just before Sam was born. I don’t know what a therapist would say about that but, I’m sorry, Dean, it seems likely that something or other must have happened.” 

 

“Or it could have been just a response to the stress you described so perfectly,” Cas interjected. “No child takes that kind of responsibility easily and even the ones who can rise to it, as you did so successfully, nearly always suffer for it in some way or another.” He paused a moment and then continued, his voice even more rough than usual. “I’m sorry, too, Dean. I should have realized that this kind of play could be difficult for you. And for you, too, Sam. To be honest, given your experiences I’m surprised we haven’t had something like this to deal with before. I hope… I hope this hasn’t damaged your trust in me. In us.” 

 

Dean was silent a moment and then said, 

 

“No, I don’t think this was a bad thing. Hard. Really fucking hard and I kinda wish I’d known this might happen but… I don’t think this was bad. It’s always bothered me. These sort of blank spaces in my memories. I have a couple of other ones I’d like to sort out but. Maybe not now. Maybe later?” 

 

“Maybe never?” Sam suggested. “I’m not sure it’s necessary, Dean.” 

 

They looked at each other, Sam solemn, worried, Dean tired, shaky, but together. Neither of them was bleeding or unconscious and in Dean’s book that was a win. Sam’s worry eased, Dean steadied. And with that, the worst was over. 

 

“No, maybe not but… it might be good to know. I hate having blind spots.” Dean turned back to Cas. “We’re good, Cas. You, too, Jimmy. We’re both kind of full of land mines and caltrops and dead falls so I guess it’s not surprising you’d run into something now and then given… uh, everything.” 

 

Cas didn’t sigh or say anything but his relief was palpable. Jimmy was more effusive. 

 

“Cutie, we have got to get you into bed and resting. And I gotta look at your bruises and stuff! I’m sure you’re covered in bruises the way you went hurtling out from under our fort. You could even need stitches someplace!” He made a move to do some hurtling of his own but a touch from Cas stopped him dead. 

 

“Yeah, that all sounds good- but I gotta pee like crazy before I do anything else. Then I can lie down for a while. I feel like I’ve been through a blender. Do I have a black eye? I feel like I should have a black eye. I really hit that wall hard. And, man! My shin! I hit something really hard with my shin!” Dean pulled the blanket up and wrapped it around his shoulders. “And can I keep this blanket? It’s amazing. What is it, silk or something?” 

 

“Or something,” Cas said, dryly. “Honestly? I’m not sure. We’ll ask Mother later. I’m sure it will be fine with her if you want to keep it.” 

 

It took all three of them to get Dean to his feet. Sam offered to carry him but Dean steadfastly refused and even threatened to tickle him when he persisted. Finally, with Sam under one arm and Jimmy under the other Dean was taken to the bathroom (where he refused more sincere offers of help) and then finally to his own bed. 

 

Lying down was a kind of heaven. Dean spaced out for a while, barely able to track being thoroughly (and professionally) inspected by Jimmy, then being tucked into bed properly and Jimmy ordering him to stay down and not get up without help no matter what. He heard Sam snort at that and some good natured bickering about who was going to keep first watch (Jimmy won) and something about the other two going off in search of food… 

 

 

When he woke it was late in the day. Sun streamed in the west facing windows past the partially closed drapes. Jimmy sat in the big arm chair, an open book on his lap but he wasn’t reading. Dean had only a moment to see him unobserved and then Jimmy felt himself being looked at and their eyes met. 

 

“Cutie! You’re awake! How do you feel?” He set aside the book and made an abortive movement as though he wanted to throw himself into Dean’s arms but didn’t think he should. 

 

Seeing the normally effusive and effervescent twin so subdued almost made Dean laugh but he saw the glint of pain and worry in the beautiful blue eyes (and the rims were still red, as though he’d been crying again) so instead he pulled back the covers in invitation. 

 

“C’mere, kid.” 

 

The book hit the floor only a moment before Jimmy was crawling under the covers, trembling under Dean’s hands. Dean gathered him in, tucked his head under his chin and sighed with a new kind of relief, one he hadn’t even realized existed. That anxiety that usually accompanied any good thing seemed to have abated somewhat. Dean wanted to poke at this but Jimmy needed him so he set it aside for later. 

 

“Are you okay? Are _we_ okay?” Jimmy asked, his voice muffled against Dean’s chest. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I would never, ever hurt you in any way you didn’t want-“

 

“I know. It wasn’t like that at all. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m okay. We’re good. And… and I love you. Thanks for helping take care of me.” 

 

Jimmy sniffled and snuggled in tighter. 

 

“Can’t help it,” he said. “Can’t help taking care of you. You know I love you?” 

 

“Yeah, kid, I do. Means the world to me.” Dean kissed the top of Jimmy’s head and breathed in deep. He smelled so good…

 

Sleep crept up on them both and carried them away. 


End file.
